The other day we were wandering around Taipei and as usual its like 95 out with 100% humidity, sweating our brains out. In the faint distance approaching us, I began to hear the melodic electronic tones of an ice cream truck. The simple tune that is the pied piper of every American suburb.
So of course hearing this, the image of a Rocketship popsicle appeared in my head and my mouth began to water. The sound began to round the corner and before I knew it my feet began to pick up speed to meet it.
The music got louder and louder and when the truck rounded the corner, I was not greeted by the familiar white truck with the popsicle menu on the side of it. Instead a yellowing monstrosity rounded the corner belching smoke and stinking up a storm. My friend noticed my crushed spirit and quickly informed me that the trucks that play music are not ice cream trucks, but trash trucks. What a let down, but at least I didn't get hit by people throwing out their trash.
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